For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland

~ Paul Simon

The only time we were in Memphis, we did not go to Graceland, which I thought was just wrong. Now once again, we have headed south to escape the midwest winter gloom on a meandering drive destined for Florida. Dearest surprised me with an overnight stay at the newly-christened Guest House at Graceland, just outside Memphis and right next door to the home of the King of Rock. And. Roll.

Under Priscilla Presley’s watchful and discerning eye, the hotel, which opened in October 2016, is inspired by Graceland, including it’s flamboyant decor with jewel tone colors and a fair amount of gilding, a 464-seat movie theater featuring Elvis movies every night, a replica of the home’s entrance foyer with gleaming white staircase and sparkling chandelier, and 450 rooms including twenty Elvis-themed suites that echo the singer’s taste. There is a gift shop with a photo gallery, replicas of some of Elvis’ jewelry along with rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses, handpainted guitars, souvenir hats and t-shirts, and several restaurants that serve comfort food that Elvis would approve of, including peanut butter and banana sandwiches. And with his music subtly, but perpetually, broadcast throughout the public areas, it’s as if Elvis has never really left the building.

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The Guest House at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

Yet, there was a serious failure to factor in that we would be arriving in the evening, with a nine-hour drive looming ahead the next day, leaving no time to tour the iconic white-columned mansion just next door. I peered through the tall iron fence separating the hotel from the estate, but could not even catch a glimpse of it. So close.

Richard Thompson wrote a poignant and haunting song about an Irish housewife’s crazy obsession with her love for the King. And, while I’m not that fanatic, I will admit that Graceland has now achieved an oddly high status on my bucket list, if only because of its persistent elusiveness.

Galway To Graceland

Oh she dressed in the dark
And she whispered amen
She was pretty in pink
Like a young girl again

Twenty years married
And she never thought twice
She sneaked out the door
And walked into the night

And silver wings carried her
Over the sea
From the west coast of Ireland
To West Tennessee

To be with her sweetheart,
Oh she left everything
From Galway to Graceland to be with the king

She was humming Suspicion,
That’s the song she liked best
She had Elvis I Love You
Tattooed on her breast

When they landed in Memphis,
Well, her heart beat so fast
She’d dreamed for so long,
Now she’d see him at last

She was down by his graveside
Day after day
Come closing time they
Would pull her away

Ah to be with her sweetheart,
Oh she’d left everything
From Galway to Graceland to be with the king

Ah, they came in their thousands
From the whole human race
To pay their respects
At his last resting place

But blindly she knelt there
And she told him her dreams
And she thought that he answered
Or that’s how it seems

Then they dragged her away
It was handcuffs this time
She said “my good man are you out of your mind?”
Don’t you know that we’re married?

See, I’m wearing his ring.
From Galway to Graceland to be with the king.
I come From Galway to Graceland to be with the king.

~ Richard Thompson